Paper man
by scaryprincess
Summary: Pitch was just waiting for the right moment - and even though he wasn't strong enough to control nightmares didn't mean he couldn't become one. Rating changed and continued.
1. Chapter 1

It was a quiet five years since Pitch had been dragged down underground, his own nightmares his only company - it was a quiet five years for Pitch.

Barely a shade, a shadow of what he once was in those five years to plot revenge against the Guardians and Jack Frost.

Pitch was patient, waiting for the right moment - the one night that wasn't watched over by the pesky Man in the Moon; till the time came he crouched on the ground like a feral cat waiting to pounce.

When the new moon came, thankfully MiM nowhere in the sky did Pitch sneak though the shadows - travelling to all the guardians bases. The rabbit had gone into a deep sleep after easter, Tooth was too busy with the teeth collecting to notice the malformed shadows in the corner, Sandy was in the sky as usual - spreading sickly golden sand everywhere, Pitch had floated to the frozen lake where Jack would've lay but the sprite wasn't there and so that only left one place, North's workshop.

So this is where he was now, watching the winter spirit from the shadows - the boy was perfectly at ease, not nevously looking over his shoulder or protectivly wielding his staff - the boy was getting ready for bed. It was a perfect ploy, and the added bonus of the boy being relaxed was all the ample pale white skin being revealed to the diminished Nightmare King. Layer by layer was the clothing peeled off into a heap, slowly and carefully. Pitch made a note of where the boy kicked his jacket, perhaps a souvinir for Pitch to take - to remember what will happen this night...

But the King was hoping, that the boy would be...on edge.

Jack simply crawled into bed and turned off the light, Pitch had to wait when Jack entered deep sleep first but the Boogeyman was patient. Pitch wouldn't move till the boy breathing evened out and deepened.

"When you're not on edge, you're taking up too much space." Pitch drawled quietly, his shape oozing and writhing from Jack's own shadow on the wall - the golden eyes gleamed at the sleeping, unconsious boy in bed; unaware of the danger he was in. Pitch stepped away from the wall, peeling away from the flat surface - not becoming solid as of yet, but of a paper thin, slender creature. The shadow puppet man with a fanged mouth stretched wide, the needle teeth were sharp - its whole body rustled, like a dead leaf caught in a gust of winter chill; or the scrunching up of ink ruined paper - wobbling and swaying towards his prey.

Pitch flexed his paper thin fingers, moving closer to the winter sprites snow white neck. He wanted to lick it, he wanted to bruise it - paint the white purple and blue but most of all, he wanted to see if he could slice open the pale neck with paper cuts. Many, many paper cuts.

"Lets put you on edge, shall we?" Pitch hissed as he pounced.


	2. Chapter 2

Surprised how many want me to continue this story: / but ya, I'll give it a shot. Warnings – pitch being a creepy mofo, jack being said victim of the creepy mofo. Sexualized horror, gore ECT – all the stuff I haven't written in a while.

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Jack jolted awake, upon seeing hellish golden eyes staring down at him was going to scream but the thin, but surprisingly strong hands squeezed the winter sprites neck harshly.

'Hello Jack,' Pitch rasped – mouth too wide for his face now and filled to the brim of teeth that reminded Jack of shards of glass or ice.

'Did you miss me?'

Jack answered with a garble of words, the boy was choking. Jack fumbled at the hand around his neck but the grip was too strong.

'Because I missed you…' Pitch continued with a shark like smile, a claw pressed into the boys Adam apple which bobbed with the desperate spasms of that delectable throat – desperate for air. Pitch leaned close to the boy's ear – rustling like a large spider in a nest of paper.

'Do you know how lovely you look like this?' Pitch whispered, dragging a claw down the middle of the boys throat – had the nightmare king wanted too, Jack's neck would've been split open already like an over ripe banana but the fallen king had so many better idea's than watching the boy bleed out all over the bed.

With a last threateningly press did the nightmare of a man retract with claws.

'When I remove my hands, if you scream I will rip your jaw out.' Pitch smiled stroking the boys face gently then he let go of the boy's windpipe – finally allowing the teen to gulp down the air with heaves and gasps.

Pitch moved back a little, but not so much to allow the boy chance to escape.

'P –P-Pitch!' Jack coughed looking at the man warily, 'I thought you were-'

'Dead? Oh no Jack, monsters like me cannot die we are simply…reborn, remade and revamped.' Pitch sighed, floating towards the chest of drawers by Jack's bedside, opened the top one and with a smirk pulled out a bottle of clear gel. Jack flushed, frost spreading across his whole face.

'Well, you have been a teenager for 300 years – 300 years with your hand as your best friend.' Pitch looked at Jack lewdly still holding the lube, 'How many times did you do it? How many times did you touch yourself wishing it was someone else's hand?'

'Just go away Pitch!' Jacks flush was getting darker with rage and embarrassment.

'Did you dream of the rabbit going into heat and dragging you down with him too? Or did you dream of North, pulling you over his knees and spanking you?'

'SHUT UP!'

'Shh, don't want to wake him now do we.' Pitch shushed the teen, shadowy hand lengthening into claws again, to remind the sprite of the threat made before.

Jack glared but fell into silence again.

Pitch stared at the bottle and then the boy again; Jack shuddered at what was hidden in that gaze.

'You look so lovely on edge, bet you're dying to know what I have in store for you.' Pitch licked his lips, 'Don't worry, it's going to be something you'll like.'

Pitch then threw the bottle of lube at Jack, who let it land onto the bed. Jack looked a little wide eyed, and began to curl into himself. Pitch shushed him like a parent would a frightened child – pressing a ghostly, ash grey finger against the boys lips when he was about to protest, the king of nightmares was close; looming other the young guardian with a lustful, spiteful and ruin filled glare.

Pitch let a hand trail to Jacks pants, bending and creaking as he did.

'Touch yourself.' Pitch hissed, the shadow demon allowed it to sink in.

'What…?' Jack asked softly, breath hitching in panic when the claw sharpened near the top of Jack's pants – slipping a wandering finger in the gap.

Pitch's smile was filled with teeth – he had spoken gently but still Jack's skin crawled still.

'Don't make me repeat myself.' Pitch pressed a claw into the boys cool skin, Jack didn't (couldn't) bleed, the claw cut though flesh easily though and deeper than a small blade would.

Pitch grinned when a pained whimper escaped the winter sprite – he wanted more though and he had all night long to get it.

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TBC…

Scary: yep…just kill me now :C


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